Post by tootull on Dec 8, 2011 17:10:03 GMT

The DVD plays the substitute role very well. No flat transfer of the original stereo mix is not a big deal with nasty tearing sounds on My God. After listening to 5.1 & 4.1, nothing else matters in my opinion. If you must have the original mix on CD, an early Sanyo Japan, Sonopress Germany, UK CDP32 & the DCC CD cover the original stereo mix base with none of those nasty tearing sounds on My God. The original stereo mix on the Blu-ray has a few warts, but it does remind me of the CDs without warts...Surrounded***Of course the Blu-ray is the clear winner in sound, if that's what matters to you. <quiet laughter>

Post by tootull on Dec 9, 2011 12:03:54 GMT

Jethro Tull: Aqualung (40th Anniversary Special Edition)By Sean Murphy 9 December 2011Aqualung: Even Better Than You Thought It Was

Whatever one’s feelings about progressive rock, Jethro Tull’s Aqualung is a rare album that remains at once part of, and above, the fray. It is, to be certain, a cornerstone of the then-nascent prog-rock canon, but it did—and does—exist wholly on its own terms as a great rock album, period.

One of the many reasons prog-rock is controversial, and taken less-than-seriously by the so-called serious critics, is because fairly or not it frequently gets associated with sci-fi and fantasy. Matters of musical proficiency aside, it is true to suggest that little of the material holds up especially well, lyrically speaking (of course that is true of most rock music—a topic for another time). This is not a sufficient—or necessarily legitimate—cause to dismiss it as is usually the case, but defenders can only get so much mileage discussing the unparalleled chops of, say, ELP, Yes, Rush, et al.

Jethro Tull is in the unfortunate, yet ultimately enviable position of circumventing easy identification. Certainly they are known as a crucial part of the prog-rock movement, as they should be, but their career preceded it and has continued long after its heyday. Aside from their accessibility, relatively speaking of course, Tull also sold enough units to be considered a significant act in its own regard. Tull, in other words, suffers if compared to the critically reviled acts of this time. In terms of their influence, longevity and versatility, they really are a unique entity in rock music.

More than anything else, Ian Anderson’s lyrics are many degrees better than those of his prog brethren. More to the point, his lyrics are many degrees better than rock songwriters in any era. The list of rock musicians whose lyrics can be considered apart from the music and appraised as poetry is small, but Anderson is at the top of the list. In terms of output alone, his work necessarily ranks about Roger Waters and Peter Gabriel, two of rock’s better wordsmiths. The fact that he was only 23 when Aqualung was recorded is remarkable enough; the fact that the themes and words in many ways remain relevant today is sufficient evidence of his genius.

By 1971, Anderson had dealt with the past (Stand Up) and the present (Benefit); his burgeoning confidence would prompt him to combine those elements in an attempt to grind some axes that probed quite a bit deeper than the typical sociopolitical commentary on offer (then, now). For Tull’s first proper “concept album” (despite Anderson’s ongoing protestations regarding this label), the songwriter turns a lacerating eye on the institution of organized religion. While the first side of the original LP concerns itself with, for lack of a better cliché, man’s inhumanity to man, the second side takes on religion with a righteous indignation that has scarcely—if ever—been improved upon by other mainstream acts.

Everyone knows the epic title track (forever and somewhat unfortunately associated with the iconic cover art, which renders the eponymous tramp into a caricature of Ian Anderson who, not a little ironically, casual fans thought—and think?—is Jethro Tull), and then there is the concert anthem “Locomotive Breath” as well as the ones you used to hear on the radio when we used to listen to the radio, “Hymn 43” and “Cross-Eyed Mary”. Four decades on, it happens to be the lesser known tracks that represent the key to the work’s endurance. If you only know the “hits” you are selling the album, and yourself, more than a little short. In between the heavy, huge classic tracks are quiet pieces that, while softer, pack their own subtle punch. The acoustic couplet of “Cheap Day Return” and “Wond’ring Aloud” are archetypes of a sort; the kind of whimsical British folk that Tull perfected all through the ‘70s. The songs seem straightforward and pleasant enough (and they are; Anderson’s voice, always striking, is conveying new levels of expressiveness and emotion, particularly during the slower tunes) but are cut by their topical, occasionally unsettling lyrical import.

Succinct delivery with maximum impact is Anderson’s calling card, and nowhere is it on better display than the one-minute and 24 seconds of perfection entitled “Cheap Day Return”. In quick yet extraordinary fashion he deals with his own alienation, offers a sardonic appraisal of his budding super-stardom (What a laugh!), and his father’s imminent death, all in a song that sounds as innocuous as a nursery rhyme. On “Wond’ring Aloud” Anderson, sounding plaintive but optimistic, turns a seemingly simple love song into a meditation on mortality (Will the years treat us well?), ending on a line that underscores the album’s central theme: It’s only the giving that makes you what you are.

This sentiment is a respite from the unflinching social commentary that comes before and after: the aforementioned “Cross-Eyed Mary” concerns itself with a prostitute, and there is no judgment offered unless it is on the conditions that made the oldest profession possible, then and still conceivable, today. “Mother Goose”, also a deceptively upbeat number, describes a surreal tour through the London underground with an unsavory cast of characters disarmingly depicted as fairy tale characters. When, mid-way through the number, Martin Barre’s electric guitar growl punctuates the proceedings, it becomes clear that the people and places being discussed are in various states of distress and despair.

Where “Cross-Eyed Mary” might be considered a contemporary Mary Magdalene, the titular character—inspired by a series of photographs Anderson’s wife Jennie took—could be Christ himself, embodying the least of our brothers. “Aqualung’s” riff is so urgent and unforgettable, the initial verse and chorus so forceful and familiar, it’s possible that the significance of this overplayed radio standard has slipped under the collective radar. Put another way, while correctly heralded as an essential moment in classic rock history, it is more than that; a point of departure for a new type of music, both for Jethro Tull and the progressive era.

It remains tantalizing to imagine the augmented critical—and street—cred the album would receive if it had only been named after almost any of the other ten songs, especially “Wind Up” or “My God”. And if, as Anderson claims he preferred, the cover had featured the actual tramp from the Thames Embankment who inspired the song (“Aqualung” referring to the gurgling sound of the man’s chronic bronchitis), it would make the lyrics about the real human being inexorably more vivid and disturbing.

The song persists as a confrontational movie that directs itself: a shot that pans a city beside the river; quiet men bundled in rags, huddled together under a bridge, “drying in the cold sun”. Finally the camera zooms in on one individual, whose rasping cough makes him difficult to ignore (“snot is running down his nose/greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes). First, a tracking shot follows him (“an old man wandering lonely”) as he goes about his daily routine (“taking time the only way he knows”): picking up used cigarette butts, taking refuge in a public toilet to warm his feet, queuing up for a daily dose of charity (“Salvation a la mode and a cup of tea”). Then, the guitar solo. The other two immortal solos from this (early ‘70s) era, David Gilmour on “Time” and Jimmy Page on “Stairway to Heaven” (coincidentally recorded in the same studio at the same time) are like Technicolor bursts of inevitability. Martin Barre’s less celebrated solo is a strictly black-and-white affair, sooty, unvarnished, irrefutable: it is the bitter breath of a broken down old man spitting out pieces of his broken luck. Finally, the reprise: we might see or at least imagine multiple Aqualungs (“and you snatch your rattling last breaths with deep -sea diver sounds”) in multiple cities—the nameless people we make it our business to ignore, the people we must walk by because it’s bad for business to do otherwise. Or so we tell ourselves. And the flowers bloom like madness in the Spring…

Side Two is a remarkably ambitious attempt to examine the racket organized religion has degenerated into (or was it always thus?). On “My God” gets some licks in on the clergy, then turns both barrels on the men and women who have set about the self-serving task of recreating God in their image. Acrimony like this, at least in rock music, generally fails to rise above sophomoric ranting, but Anderson’s words retain all of their power and perspicacity if for no other reason than the cynicism and spiritual charade he targets has only become more prevalent. Musically, the song is cheekily experimental, shifting from an acoustic tour de force (Anderson, who is rightly celebrated for elevating flute into a lead instrument as opposed to sideshow embellishment, does not get nearly enough attention for his superlative guitar playing ability) to an arena-ready workhorse, with Barre’s larger-than-life chords. Then, in the extended middle section, we are treated to a credible approximation and/or parody of a religious hymn, complete with multi-tracked chanting and echoed flute effects: it is an audacious act of musical vandalism, at once amusing and eerie. It also serves to function as a soundtrack of sorts for the irreverent image inside the double-sleeve gatefold, which depicts the band having broken into a cathedral for some impromptu merriment.

For “Hymn 43” Anderson sets his sights on the U.S.A. and in quick order sets about decimating the hypocrisy and myth-making of religion and the new religion, entertainment. It still sounds brazen today, but it was downright defiant to pen tunes in 1971 with incendiary couplets like this “If Jesus saves, he better save himself/From the gory glory seekers who’ll use his name in death.” For a postmodern twist Anderson could not have anticipated, the not-so-holy-ghost in the trinity occurred when religion and entertainment got packaged together as part of the anti-science, anti-intellectual politics we see camera-ready charlatans practicing daily on our television sets.

In just one minute on “Slipstream” Anderson captures the opportunistic shamelessness of the materially rich but spiritually fallow weekend warriors who compensate (figuratively) for their nagging consciences in the confessional or the collection basket (“And you press on God’s waiter your last dime/As he hands you the bill”). On the literal levels these are the people we all know: our peers, parents and especially our politicians, whom Anderson contemptuously nails to their crosses of gold. In an era of too-big-too-fail and the wealthiest .001%, it’s difficult to conclude that Anderson was not predicting the future of a world totally off the tracks in “Locomotive Breath” (“no way to slow down”).

Anderson saves his best for last when, in “Wind Up” he recalls being shipped off to church, eventually concluding that God is “not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays”. It brings full circle the concerns, both material and spiritual, that any sensitive—or sentient—person must grapple with, or make sense of. “In your pomp and all your glory you’re a poorer man than me/As you lick the boots of death born out of fear”, he snarls, assailing the fake humility and the appropriation of the holy for personal, earthly gains, et cetera.

And here we are, 40 years later where a great album gets even better. First, we have the new stereo mix masterminded by the indefatigable Steven Wilson, who has become a champion for prog rock remastering. His recent work on the King Crimson catalog managed the improbable by creating indispensable copies of oft-remastered works (ones which sounded fairly spectacular in the first place). Aqualung, on the other hand, has always suffered from shoddy production and/or mastering. Even the obligatory reissues over the years have been lackluster, amplifying the hiss and burying the subtlety in the mix. What Wilson has done with the master tapes is spectacular bordering on unbelievable: the songs do not merely sound improved, they sound different, albeit in ways that do not encroach upon or overwhelm the versions we have grown so fond of over the decades. Now, each instrument (especially the bass and John Evan’s omnipresent piano) gets released from the murkiness of the earlier mixes. Anderson’s vocals are crystalline and each note from the acoustic guitar is a room-filling revelation.

For Tull aficionados the real treats are contained on the second disc: previously unreleased material(!). In addition to remixed and remastered versions of familiar favorites from the ’71 sessions (such as “Life Is a Long Song”, “Nursie” and “From Later”), we get early versions of “My God” (rough around the edges and alternate lyrics familiar to those who have heard live recordings from this era) and “Wind Up” (previously available on the last Aqualung remaster). The newly released songs are the real eye-openers: there is an early run of “Wond’ring Aloud” and initial takes of “Slipstream” and “Up the ‘Pool”. The one that is worth the proverbial price of admission is the alternate take of “Wond’ring Aloud, Again” which combines an early version of “Wond’ring Aloud” and the working draft of “Wond’ring Again” which turned up on the Living in the Past collection. Listening to this take, I found myself fantasizing that the existing (master) take of “Wond’ring Aloud” had simply segued into “Wond’ring Again” (one of the better lyrical and musical numbers from ’71) and the latter had replaced the worthy but not as essential “Up to Me”; if we had the same running order with “Wond’ring Again” instead of “Up to Me” concluding Side One we would have an even more perfect album, if that is possible. As is always the case, it’s fantastic to have this long-discarded material made available; it is imperative for fans and might help newcomers better appreciate why an album made 40 years ago can inspire so much enthusiasm.

Post by maddogfagin on Dec 9, 2011 18:50:17 GMT

Jethro Tull is in the unfortunate, yet ultimately enviable position of circumventing easy identification. Certainly they are known as a crucial part of the prog-rock movement, as they should be, but their career preceded it and has continued long after its heyday. Aside from their accessibility, relatively speaking of course, Tull also sold enough units to be considered a significant act in its own regard. Tull, in other words, suffers if compared to the critically reviled acts of this time. In terms of their influence, longevity and versatility, they really are a unique entity in rock music.

I think the final sentence says it all. Thanks for locating this piece TT.

Post by snaffler on Dec 11, 2011 18:22:46 GMT

'More than anything else, Ian Anderson’s lyrics are many degrees better than those of his prog brethren. More to the point, his lyrics are many degrees better than rock songwriters in any era. The list of rock musicians whose lyrics can be considered apart from the music and appraised as poetry is small, but Anderson is at the top of the list.'

this is such a brilliant resume of IAs lyrical genius! i remember his remark saying with his lyrics and zeppelins riffs theyd make a good little rock band!!! IA (somewhat disingenuously in my opinion) said relatively recently that at the time hed forgotten robert plant wrote the words to zeppelin songs!!!!!! Ha ha! nothing the old boy has ever said has been careless or forgetful! this was a carefully crafted dig and it must have got through to the bone!

IA is without doubt without peer, when i was teenager my uncle saw the lyrics of HH on the album cover. he was astonished about how good they were, bearing in mind my uncle lectured in English lit at newcastle university this was indeed praise from the establishment.

Post by steelmonkey on Dec 13, 2011 21:31:06 GMT

Whew.....thought the IRS or Inland revenue was cruising our site looking for easy money from Tull fans...they probably see all the BMWs in the parking lots and don't realize we hard cores without a life are unlikely to balance anyone's budget. Haven't heard of anyone winning the new Box...but i seem to remember some names and pictures of previious contest wimmers surfacinmg on a regular basis so I don't think Tull Central is up to anything sleazy here...of course, the prizes are usually more souvineer like and less cash value,...you know...autographed already busted flutes etc etc....maybe they're not gonna spit up a 100 dollar gift !

Post by tootull on Dec 14, 2011 20:17:53 GMT

Whew.....thought the IRS or Inland revenue was cruising our site looking for easy money from Tull fans...they probably see all the BMWs in the parking lots and don't realize we hard cores without a life are unlikely to balance anyone's budget. Haven't heard of anyone winning the new Box...but i seem to remember some names and pictures of previious contest wimmers surfacinmg on a regular basis so I don't think Tull Central is up to anything sleazy here...of course, the prizes are usually more souvineer like and less cash value,...you know...autographed already busted flutes etc etc....maybe they're not gonna spit up a 100 dollar gift !

Speaking of cars. Here in my car I can listen to Tull. A CDR for the car. Feel free to steal it!

Post by tootull on Dec 16, 2011 15:53:13 GMT

Of note...

Hey guys - The tones on the new CD are pretty much as they came up from the multi track tapes - the 1971 mix doesn't sound like what is on the tape, so most of the highs and lows were apparently lost somewhere in the mixing process - a faulty mixing console, misaligned tape machine, misleading studio monitoring, stoned engineer, or all of the above, who knows?! In a broader sense now we work with digital we can hold on to frequencies that for years analogue just couldn't maintain through 3-4 generations (recording, mixing, cutting master, vinyl..etc), so I have a suspicion it's the ability to actually finally be able to reproduce the frequencies that were always there that we now consider to be a trademark of digital, and why the perception that analogue is "warmer" persists. On top of this a lot of us have lost the ability to hear frequencies above 10k and would be less sensitive to them, so in that sense it's impossible to produce a perfect "everyman" top end EQ. But I'm really not an expert on these things at all, I can only say subjectively speaking that the old mix sounded not good to me, and Ian certainly felt that way too (not that the artist is always right about these things either!) I guess it just comes back to whatever your preference might be in terms of hearing bottom end and clarity at the expense of some of that perceived "warmth".

-Steven Wilson

I checked my mix notes for the title track of the album. I actually took treble off some instruments: Some brightness removed from the drums in the 10-12K range, and some taken out on the electric guitar at 8k. The bass is flat, nothing added or taken off. The recipients of added top end clarity were the piano (6db at 8K, but this was largely to match the sound on the original mix, it was recorded very dull), acoustic guitar (2db at 10K) and the lead vocals (2db at 8K). Apart from the piano, these are quite minimal adjustments.

I also compared Pete's master with my original mix - he seems to have added some extra brightness, around the 10-12K area - I can't say I prefer it that way, but again it's a taste thing.

Post by tootull on Jan 17, 2012 16:52:03 GMT

Forty years old now, Jethro Tull's "Aqualung" is justly famous and justly notorious. It's famous for its ambition, its treetop playing, and for being one of the few early-'70s concept albums that (a) really did have a coherent, worthwhile concept, and (b) said profound things about it via pop music.

For many, though, it also marks the moment progressive rock jumped the shark. The title track, with its angular chording, sneering vocals, and too-clever breaks, is now rendered a permanent joke via radio overplay. "Aqualung" might be the one time pop touched the face of God — but snot is running down its nose. The sour smell of excess does not, however, overwhelm a headlong, flamboyant collection by a group of musicians ready to try anything. This package is worth having just for that.

"Aqualung" goes overboard and marks a turning point for a band that, with "Thick as a Brick" and "Passion Play," would soon ditch its hard-earned audience. These packages let us in on a terrific moment, and the extra features are fascinating. Aqualung is like a train without a brake — it won't stop going, no way to slow down.

Post by futureshock on Jan 24, 2012 5:55:39 GMT

Ain't for the funny munny that Clive Bunker plays drums so GRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEATT!!!!! on Aqualung! The remix sure allows the crafty stick work on that album to shine through. If Clive is still playing drums, if he's NOT on either the TAAB tour or the Martin Barre tour, I ask you, is there a gig of any justice out there?

Post by maddogfagin on Jan 24, 2012 9:07:47 GMT

Ain't for the funny munny that Clive Bunker plays drums so GRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEATT!!!!! on Aqualung! The remix sure allows the crafty stick work on that album to shine through. If Clive is still playing drums, if he's NOT on either the TAAB tour or the Martin Barre tour, I ask you, is there a gig of any justice out there?

He's still out there gigging as far as I'm aware, most recently with The Gathering amomgst others.

And as far as Bunker’s original cobbled-together ‘mix-and-match’ Tull drum kit goes, it also fell under the influence of a certain notorious drummer. “I did a Keith Moon with it in America somewhere!” says Bunker. “The first moment I knew we were gonna destroy it was when Glenn threw his bass through the bass drum and so I thought, ‘Oh, alright, I’ll finish this off in style!’ I just trashed it everywhere — it was like ‘My Generation’ with a flute!”

“The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the greatest intention” ― Kahlil Gibran

Post by bunkerfan on Apr 14, 2012 6:56:58 GMT

[quote author="@tjrrocksponge" timestamp="1334377323" source="/post/27204/thread"]The new stereo mix is excellent. I just got the 2-CD remaster in the mail and it sounds more alive than the 1996 remaster.[/quote]

Cross-Eyed Mary glitch - At about 7:53Cross-Eyed Mary - At about 10:42 the last few notes are erroneously repeated at the very end of the trackMy God glitch - At about 27:45Wind Up glitch - At about 41:27 on the Blu-ray (At about 41:24 on the DVD)

Original stereo mix on Blu-ray:

My God several severe glitches - Starting at about 24:23, then 25:31 and onward.

Steven Wilson replied:Thank you for this. I just listened. The 3 glitches on the 5.1 mix are annoying, though perhaps because I'm a seasoned vinyl listener, and they remind me of vinyl ticks which I'm so used to, they don't annoy me as much as the TAAB glitches - still no excuse of course. The repeating section at the end of Cross Eyed Mary is just the very tail end of the reverberating final chord, and only heard at significant volume. Though again that's not very good and I'm not happy that it happened.

The glitches on the original stereo transfer are indeed horrible.

I will mention to EMI and Ian these issues, I very much doubt they are aware of them.

rabey: Thanks for the interest. Unfortunately because Ian/Tull is doing his own book when I sent a request to find John I got stonewalled, even though I have a signed contract by Ian from 2013 stating I was doing a DVD version of The book. I also have had troubleMay 7, 2019 23:11:47 GMT

rabey: I guess after 5 years Ian forgot this even existed. Imean, he never even listed my book with all the other books that have been out of print for decades, yet mine and Tim S still have books in print and we're not mentioned.May 7, 2019 23:13:11 GMT

rabey: I just get the impression that this AND having just dealt with Tull are all they care about really and it peeves me when the truth is when I first got my original contract with a US publisher to write the book with quotes on 3 other books on ELP,Crimson,May 7, 2019 23:21:53 GMT

rabey: and YES, I contacted both Martin and Dave from AND and offered involvement in writing and photography. but Dave said no interest and martin was happy to get his photos printed just for credit. Later Daves book arrived and martin wanted 100 bucks a shot.May 7, 2019 23:25:00 GMT

rabey: Anyway, The publisher refused the cost of photos, Martin wrote the only negative review of the book in print except for Amazon where a few stinkers stalled it's movement, but basically there was nothing advertising the book outside the UK. May 7, 2019 23:29:01 GMT